


Scandal (or the lack thereof)

by Destina



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-01
Updated: 2007-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Jensen wants is his boyfriend and a little attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scandal (or the lack thereof)

**Author's Note:**

> Written in August 2007, posted to AO3 in October 2015. For the prompts: scandal, Journey, Carpenters.

Around noon the day after the possible disaster, Jared finally opened the front door and picked up the papers on the front step. He scratched his stomach and took a long look around. The street was quiet; no kids, no neighbors mowing the lawn. Not even a mailman in sight. 

No reporters, either. 

Papers tucked under his arm, he headed for the kitchen on bare feet, lured by the smell of coffee. God bless the timer for providing coffee when it was most needed, particularly when it had been punched blindly at oh-dark-thirty in the morning by squinty drunken actors. He poured a mug for himself and one for Jensen; one mug in each hand, he passed back down the darkened hallway - stepping over dogs and clothes, both strewn across the carpet - to where Jensen was burrowed down into the bed. 

He dumped all the papers on the bed, set the mugs down on the nightstand, and crawled over Jensen, which caused a barrage of grumpy noises from beneath the covers. Jared poked at the vaguely ass-shaped lump sticking out towards him. "Rise and whine, Jen. There's coffee."

"There's not enough coffee in the world," Jensen grumbled, but he pushed the blanket down anyway and sat up, hair sticking out wildly all over his head. Jared gave him an appraising look. The bruise under his eye was livid and purple, enough to make Jared wince, which provoked a frown from Jensen.

"Is it worse?" Jensen asked, while probing at it gingerly. 

Jared caught his hand and pulled it away, smoothed his own fingers over the discolored skin. "Yeah," he said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of Jensen's eye. "A little."

Jensen tilted his head and threaded his fingers through Jared's hair, and their noses bumped together, and then their mouths touched, a kiss made rough by chapped lips and unbrushed teeth. Jensen sighed into the kiss, raising goosebumps on Jared's skin, and then pulled away. 

Jensen turned smoothly toward the coffee on autopilot, so Jared unfolded one of the papers, gave the headlines a cursory glance, and paged back to the Lifestyle section. 

"Well?" Jensen's voice was muffled, since half his face appeared to be inside the coffee mug. 

"You'll be totally excited to know that Tom Welling was spotted out to dinner with Smallville's latest guest star," Jared informed him. Welling's face looked oddly bloated, pixilated in black and white. "And Lindsay Lohan is back in jail."

"Shocking." Jensen kicked the covers down and Jared deliberately didn't look, since Jensen was sprawled out across the coverlet, no shirt, pajama bottoms riding low on his hips, the tempting bastard. 

As quick as he was able, Jared skimmed the rest of the articles and blind items, acutely aware of Jensen staring at him. Then he closed the paper with a sigh. "Nothin' there, Jensen. Not one tiny blip on the gossip radar." 

"It could have made a website," Jensen said stubbornly. "Perez Hilton. Defamer."

Jared pointed to his phone. "Hasn't rung. Neither's yours. If it had popped up somewhere, we'd'a heard. Will you relax?" He tossed the paper on the floor and turned on his side, propped up on one elbow to face Jensen. "You are officially the least scandal-worthy actor in Canada."

Jensen tapped one finger on the side of his mug. It kept time with the muscle jumping in his cheek. Then he said, "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Well, let's review. Actor, thirty, is spotted kissing his co-star, definitely not thirty, in the corner of Vancouver bar by belligerent drunk."

"You'll get to thirty," Jensen told him, face scrunched up in some approximation of a scowl. Since Jensen didn't scowl much, he appeared to be really out of practice. Jared reached over and traced each and every line on Jensen's face, smoothing them away.

"Focus, would you? Where was I. Oh, right. Belligerent drunk shoves elderly actor; elderly actor--"

Jensen set his mug down with a thud and pointed at the corner of Jared's eye. "CROW'S FEET," he announced, nostrils flaring. 

"--tries to talk his way out of it. Younger, much more handsome actor intervenes and gets a punch in the stomach for his trouble. Elderly actor goes ballistic. Bar fight ensues. Actors escape when bouncer ejects belligerent drunk." Jared used his fingers to count off Jensen's lucky breaks. "One, no one got a picture. Two, we're regulars there and no one will rat us out. Three, the bouncer got rid of Mr. Asshole so we could make a break for it. And four, no one cares." 

"It's the 'no one cares' part I'm disturbed by," Jensen said. 

Jared put his face down against Jensen's stomach. "Did I thank you for losing your fucking mind when that jerk punched me?" he asked softly. "'Cause that was kinda hot." 

"Right," Jensen said. "Even though you could pancake him with one hand."

Jared kissed the skin just below Jensen's belly button and watched his muscles tense in anticipation. "That's not the point." He turned his head, cheek against skin, and smiled up at Jensen. "You really wanted there to be a scandal, didn't you?"

"No," Jensen said, scowling again. "But a little attention isn't a bad thing, you know? Says something about popularity."

Jared nodded. "Yeah. 'Cause we definitely need a reporter camped out on our doorstep, asking me a hundred questions about our secret love. And I'll tell him you use whitening toothpaste for your aged teeth and you sing along to Journey." 

"Tell him you love it, while you're at it." Jensen pushed at Jared until he eased over on his back, pulling Jensen on top of him. Jensen straddled him; Jared fitted his hands to Jensen's hips. "Tell him I sing you to sleep every night." Jensen leaned down, braced on Jared's chest, and sang softly in his ear. "Why do birds suddenly appear...every time...you are near?"

Jared shivered and ran his hands up Jensen's back. "Dude, not the Carpenters," he protested, but faintly, his voice cracking. 

Jensen snagged Jared's earlobe between his teeth, worried it, then let it go as he whisper-sang, "Just like me, they want to be...close to you." 

"You're going to make me shut you up, aren't you?" Jared caught Jensen's face with his hands and pulled him into kissing range. 

"Was hoping," Jensen managed to say, before Jared touched their lips together, slowly, the kind of thorough kiss that made Jensen grind down on him and kick the rest of the papers off the bed. 

If there were any reporters lurking around, they would probably love to know Jared popped wood at the first note of schmaltzy 70's love songs, thanks to Jensen's song-seduction techniques. He planned to kick Jensen's ass for that, later -- when he was finished doing other much more interesting things to it.


End file.
